


'Til the End of the Sun

by riots



Category: GOT7
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Blood, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-14
Updated: 2014-10-14
Packaged: 2018-02-21 04:09:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2454239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riots/pseuds/riots
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Okay, so maybe Jaebum was right. Maybe Jackson <i>shouldn't</i> have gone out alone today.</p>
            </blockquote>





	'Til the End of the Sun

Jackson ducks his head as he slinks through the front door, pulling his hood down over his head. The gash on his forehead has almost stopped bleeding now, slowing to a seep down the bridge of his nose, and he wipes at it with his shirt sleeve. His sleeve is already stained red and damp, clinging to his hand and wrist, and he wrinkles his nose, slipping quietly down the hall to the room he shares with Jinyoung.

The last thing he needs right now is for Jaebum to see him. He’d warned Jackson this morning not to go out, especially not during the day. The entire city is tense, riled up by a renewed effort from the government to denounce mutations. ‘Dangerous’, the headlines read. ‘Uncontrollable’. More like ‘bullshit’. Jackson’s had his whole fire thing under control since he was like fifteen, and the most dangerous mutant he knows is Jinyoung on a gassy day. Doesn’t stop people on the street from watching him warily, eyes catching on the mark on his wrist. You’d think he lived on a diet of babies with the icy looks he gets.

Jaebum had told him not to go, but Jia and Feifei had been worryingly silent for a few days now. Radio silence is kinda par for the course for people like them, but still, Jackson had just figured he’d check in on them. Thankfully, they’d just had to move base, since their old landlord had decided that they were violating their lease agreement, and Feifei had sent him home with some dinner for the guys. He didn’t say it, but she knew that they weren’t super on top of that whole cooking thing.

He got jumped on the way home. He’d been adjusting his bag on his shoulder when his sleeve rode up and exposed the tattoo on the inside of his wrist. He hadn’t even seen the first punch coming, just felt the pain ricocheting down his jaw as he was sent stumbling. ‘Don’t fight them’, Jaebum says. ‘It’ll just make things worse for us.’ It was hard to keep that in mind when Jackson had just caught a boot heel against his ribs and someone else had landed a right hook on his ear. His grip on his bag had slipped and he didn’t have a chance to find it again before a hand was slamming his head against the brick wall and that was when Jackson lost it.

Blood dripping down his face, Jackson had rounded on his attackers, raising one hand in front of him. There were three or four of them, young, he thought. It was hard to see when his head was ringing and there’s blood dripping down and catching in his eyelashes. “You sure you wanna play this game?” he’d panted, and fire ignited in his palm, spreading out to his fingertips. He was so angry it was nearly white hot, and he’d wiped futilely at the sticky mess on his forehead. They were bigger than him, which wasn’t really saying much, but when he steadied himself and took a step forward, they’d instantly shuffled back. They’d scattered when he bared his teeth at them, and then Jackson was sliding down the wall, grimacing. His bag was nowhere to be found, and he’d mourned the loss of that home-cooked meal. Today was not a good one.

Scalp wounds bleed a lot, and Jackson had done his best to discreetly wipe his face clean as he walked home. He didn’t need any attention right then, and he was lucky enough to get home without much trouble. Of course, home was where the trouble waited.

Bambam catches him in the hallway. “What happened to you?” he asks, fingers catching on Jackson’s sleeve. “You look terrible.”

“I’m fine,” Jackson says, plastering on a massive grin as he pulls out of his grip. “Never better.” Bambam makes a soft noise of disbelief, raising one eyebrow. Jackson should really know better than to try to fool him, of all people. He’s sure Bambam doesn’t need any ability to read his discomfort and pain right now; Jackson’s always been kinda shit at covering up what he thinks. “Just…” Down the hall, a door opens, and Jackson pulls his hood down again. “Let me get cleaned up, alright? Before Jaebum goes on the warpath?”

“I’ll stall him,” Bambam sighs, and he squeezes Jackson’s fingers quickly. Bambam is tiny and slight, the one person in this place smaller than Jackson is, but he’s always been warm enough to fill up a whole room. “But no guarantees. He’s really - he’s really upset.”

Jackson smiles at him. “Thanks, Bambam.” He ruffles his hair and slips into his room just as Yugyeom sticks his head out into the hallway, peering down at them.

It takes a long time for Jackson to get clean, scrubbing the blood out of his hairline and his eyebrows. The gash is long but shallow, opening up all over again under the water of the shower. He really should go see Mark, with his steady, careful hands, but that would mean leaving his room, and he can’t risk it. Maybe he’s prolonging the inevitable, but he’s tired and his head is throbbing and he really doesn’t need to be yelled at right now.

He finally manages to bandage up his forehead, and he’s pulling his shirt on over his damp shoulders when the door bangs open. Jackson winces. “What the hell,” Jaebum hisses. Jackson can see the way his jaw clenches as he shuts the door behind him. The lines of his face are even sharper with his anger. “Where _were_ you, Jackson?”

Jackson turns away from him, so that Jaebum can’t see the worst of the damage. “Went to check in on Jia and the girls. No big deal.” He tugs at the hem of his shirt, straightening it. “They’re fine, thanks for asking.”

“You _disappeared_.” Jaebum’s fingers close on Jackson’s bicep and he jerks Jackson around, eyes hard. “You - and you look like a mess.” He presses clinical fingers to the bruise on Jackson’s chin and Jackson yelps, batting his hand away. “What happened?”

“Don’t worry,” Jackson tells him, patting self-consciously at the bandage. “No one’s dead, I didn’t fight back, I just scared them a little. Just like you said.” He holds up a hand, pinky out. “Pinky swear.”

Jaebum sighs, eyes sliding shut for a second as he presses a hand to his head. “You can’t just go out like that,” he says. “I had no idea where you were. What if -”

Jackson scowls and drops his hand. “Listen, I know you’ve pretty much elected yourself leader of our little household here, but weirdly enough, I can still leave the house whenever I please. There isn’t a law against that yet, is there?” He can’t help the way he bristles, even if he _knows_ that Jaebum is right. He shouldn’t have gone out today, and it’s his own fault that he’s bleeding from the head. The problem is that Jackson’s never been very good at staying still, cooped up. He can’t spend all of his time hiding, even if Jaebum insists that’s what will keep them safe.

“No, there isn’t,” Jaebum agrees, voice softening. Jackson glances over at him and this time, when Jaebum approaches, he lets him examine the bandage. He’s still angry, sure, but this close, Jackson can see the worry underneath, and the fear. “You can’t just disappear, man, you scared the shit out of me.” Jackson huffs, squirming under Jaebum’s scrutiny, and Jaebum just pushes him down onto the bed. “Stop it. You’re not going anywhere.”

“You are so bossy,” Jackson grumbles.

He freezes when Jaebum climbs into his lap, pinning him to the mattress with the weight of his hips. This isn’t new territory, exactly, but that doesn’t mean it’s familiar, either. “You can’t just _do_ that,” Jaebum says, hands resting on Jackson’s shoulders. “What if you didn’t come home?”

“Then I’d be bleeding all over the pavement somewhere?” Jackson suggests. Jaebum slugs him in the shoulder. “Ow!”

“You are not allowed to do that again, Jackson Wang,” Jaebum says, voice low. It takes Jackson a second, but he realizes that it’s not an order. It’s a request. _Scared the shit out of him_ , he’d said.

“Sorry,” Jackson mumbles, and Jaebum presses his forehead to his. He tips his weight forward against Jaebum’s chest until the two of them fall back against the bed. It knocks the breath out of Jackson but when Jaebum pushes himself up, he grips his hips, holding him there. “Didn’t mean to worry you.”

“Yes, you did,” Jaebum says wryly. Jackson would never admit it, but he kinda likes it like this, all caged in by the weight of Jaebum’s body. “Dumbass,” Jaebum says, and then he leans in. Jackson doesn’t know if he’ll ever get used to the way Jaebum kisses, hard and deep, like he’s trying to prove something. It’s probably his favourite thing in the world, and he relaxes under Jaebum’s hands, lips opening under his.

“Sorry, Dad,” Jackson says, and he has to swallow down the giggle in his throat. His ribs hurt, and the pressure of Jaebum’s body on his chest isn’t helping, but he doesn’t make a move to squirm out from underneath him.

Jaebum pulls a face. “Really? We were just kissing, man, gross.” He flicks Jackson’s nose and smirks when Jackson squeaks.

They both jerk when the door swings open. Jaebum groans, dropping his face to Jackson’s shoulder. “ _Jinyoung_.”

“Sorry, hyung,” Jinyoung says cheerfully. “You guys got silent fast, I was just making sure nobody killed anybody else.” He leans against the doorway _way_ longer than is really necessary. “Glad to see you’re not dead or anything.” He leans forward, squinting at Jackson’s face. “Pretty close thing for you, though, huh, Jackson.”

Jaebum raises his head. “Jinyoung,” he says, his tone perfectly even, “you’ve got maybe five seconds before -”

“Bye!” Jinyoung grins, eyes disappearing into creases, and then makes a quick exit.

“ _He’s_ gonna be the one I kill,” Jaebum declares. “Between the two of you...aish.” Slowly, he shifts his weight off of Jackson, and he reaches up to tuck a pillow underneath Jackson’s head. “Alright. Get some sleep. I bet you lost a lot of blood.”

“Not a lot,” Jackson argues, but it’s weak. It’d be easy to argue, but in all honesty, Jackson is kind of light-headed, and a nap would be nice.

“Sleep,” Jaebum says firmly. He ensures Jackson’s compliance by kissing him again, sweetly this time, and Jackson lets him tug the blankets up to his chin. “It’s the only time you’re out of trouble. Idiot.”

“Shut up.” Jackson scrunches up his nose and Jaebum flips the blanket up and over his face. “Wake me up for dinner.”

When Jackson pushes the blanket down, Jaebum bends nearly in half in a sweeping, dramatic bow. “Sleep,” he calls over his shoulder, “and maybe I’ll make you food, if you’re lucky.” Jackson knows that smile though. It means that he’ll get that dinner tonight, and maybe even Jaebum’s warm arms around his waist, long after lights out. He’ll take it.


End file.
